Interruptions
by miss-maiaa
Summary: Guinevere and Arthur's night together… doesn't quite go as planned.


**Interruptions**

 _Guinevere,_

 _Meet me at your home at 9 o'clock tonight._

 _Arthur Pendragon_

As if he needed to clarify. As if she didn't know which Arthur it would be.

"A note?" Merlin said, peeking over Guinevere's shoulder. "What'sit say?"

Guinevere folded the paper. "Nothing," she replied briskly, holding it between two fingers and speeding away from him. She busied herself with the folding of Arthur's laundry, but Merlin only followed.

"Gwen?"

"Yes, Merlin?"

"That's my job."

Guinevere nodded and backed away from the white shirt. Merlin took his place in front of it, looking down at it but glancing at Guinevere out of the corner of his eye. She pretended now to get the king's food ready, but really she was just moving bread around on the plate and poking at the broccoli with her fingers, pursing her lips.

"Arthur wants to meet me at my house alone tonight," she spat out all that once, leaving a startled Merlin to grin at her.

"Gwen, there's no need to scream," he teased.

"Did I?" Guinevere said, holding a hand to her mouth. Oh no.

He shook his head. "You're fine," he replied. "I'm only teasing."

She smacked his arm with her other hand and placed them both on her hips, tapping her foot against the cold ground. "What does he want?"

Merlin shrugged. "I don't pretend to know how Arthur thinks," he mumbled.

Guinevere stared at him. "You know him better than anyone," she told him.

"I think that goes to you, Gwen," he informed, looking at her with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"What does he want?" she asked, mainly to herself. They had never seen each other that late before. And at her house… why did he want to be out of the castle? What did he want that was so important that in couldn't be said in the safe, thin walls of his room, where there were guards outside the door? Why did it have to be her house?

"You look sick," Merlin commented.

"I feel sick."

"Why?"

Guinevere glared at him. "You know what I'm thinking, Merlin, because we're thinking the same thing!"

Merlin chuckled. "And why are you worried about it?"

Guinevere shook her head and placed her hands on her cheeks. "Because, it's… complicated."

He rolled his eyes. "You love each other _deeply_ ," he commented. "No one cares anymore. They want you to be queen, Gwen!"

"Just because we… doesn't mean I'll become queen," she mumbled.

"But you are going to be queen one day, and soon, probably."

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Gwen?"

"Is Arthur going to propose tonight?"

Merlin shook his head again. "Gwen, stop worrying," he told her, spinning around from his laundry to place his hands on her shoulders in reassurance. "He would've told me, and he hasn't, so no, he won't do it tonight. And plus, it would be rather awkward, if-"

"Finish that sentence and I'll get Gaius to poison your food," Gwen said harshly.

"You're too nice for that," Merlin laughed. "You won't have time to see him today anyway."

"Merlin!"

"Only joking!" he said, raising his hands in protest.

"Will we…"

"If you want to," Merlin replied, suddenly going serious. "He won't if you say no."

Guinevere shook her head. "I'm ready," she said. "I'm fine. I… I want to. Merlin, I want to."

"Then why are you so nervous?"

"Because I haven't before, and I don't want to mess it up."

"Gwen, we both know that you're both good at catastrophically making events awkward. And that's part of your charm. And it's Arthur. He loves you, Gwen, with everything. Don't be worried."

She nodded. "I know."

9 o'clock rolled around. Guinevere had come home early and cleaned for two hours without a break. She washed the cups and plates and bowls, scrubbed the cutlery clean, dusted everything; every tabletop, every surface, even the blanket on the bed. And then she got dressed, which took longer than anything, because she couldn't decide what would be better; the pink dress, which was thinner and easier to remove, or the blue one, which was prettier and nicer. After careful consideration, and switching her vote several times, she decided to go with the pink one. That's what she needed, right? Things that were thin and easy to remove. Yes, that's what she needed. For tonight. Especially for tonight. After she was dress she piled her hair up on her head in the most stylish way possible, put it back with a pin, and looked around. And then she dusted, washed, scrubbed, and cleaned everything all over again so it was all shiny. She could practically see her face in the plates. Is that really what she looked like up close?

A knock on the door startled her and she almost dropped the plate, but gripped it tight at the last second before it slipped through her fingers. She placed it in the cupboard and smoothed down the bodice of her dress before peering into the mirror beside the bed. Good, good. Everything was good. Except how strange her face looked up close – was it really like that? A knock sounded again and she hurried to open it, biting her lip.

"Arthur," she greeted warmly, pulling open the door so he could enter.

"Guinevere," Arthur said, a smile growing on his lips. "How has today treated you?"

"Good, thank you," she replied, closing the door and turning around, watching him as he slipped off his blue cloak. It was the one he always wore when he snuck down to see her. "Would you like something to drink, or perhaps something to eat?"

Arthur's smile turned into a grin. "Guinevere, you don't have to be so formal," he told her gently, taking her hands in his and rubbing them with his thumbs. "It's just us. It's just me."

"I'm sorry," Guinevere responded, smiling.

"Maybe we should go sit on the bed?" Arthur suggested, his eyes roaming her face.

"Maybe we should," Guinevere agreed, pushing herself up onto tippy toes and gently kissing his cheek. But she didn't return down after, as Arthur's hands slipped from hers and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her against him, grazing his lips against hers before planting them down. Guinevere slid her arms around his neck and pushed against him, wanting more, more. Before they knew it they were fumbling towards the rickety bed in the corner of the room and Arthur finally broke away, leaving Guinevere standing while he lay down on the bed and motioned for her to join him. She followed suit. Perhaps it was the adrenaline or perhaps it was knowing everything was clean or perhaps it was knowing that it was just Arthur, but she wasn't nervous anymore. She was… excited. Arthur placed a hand to her cheek before putting his arm around her again and pulling her to him. And then they were kissing again, and then Arthur deepened the kiss, and then something outside fell on the ground with a loud bang and they both sat up, clearly startled.

"What was that?" Arthur asked, his blue eyes flicking over to Guinevere.

She shook her head. "Probably a drunk wandering down from the tavern," she reassured him, placing a hand on his leg. "It's fine, Arthur."

This was followed by several more clangs and bangs and after them came a drunken yell and the sound of a door slamming.

"It's fine."

Arthur nodded and his smile grew once more. "Now, where were we," he said, leaning in, placing his lips on Guinevere's, his fingers running lightly up and down her side. She returned his affection and soon after slipped herself onto his lap. She moved her hands up from his chest and began to run them through his hair, mussing it up. He smiled and pulled her ever closer, but it wasn't close enough, it wasn't warm enough. But they hadn't done anything like this before, and he didn't know quite what to do next. Thankfully she did it for him. Her hands ran down his front and stopped at the hem of his shirt, where she proceeded to slide them under in an attempt to slip it off. He let her work and when she was finished, kept his hands on her waist and pulled her closer than close, as close as she could get. He fumbled around, looking for some way to return the favor, but it was a dress. It didn't just work like that. Foolishly, he pulled away.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Your dress," he whispered.

Guinevere looked down. "Oh," she mumbled. "Oh, of course." She looked back up at him. "Can we wait…"

Arthur nodded and the corner of his lips quirked up. "Not a problem, Gwen," he said softly. "Not a problem." His eyes closed as he leaned in again, and they were just starting to get back into it when a knock sounded at the door.

"What the-"

Guinevere put a finger to the king's lips and shook her head, climbing off of his lap and the bed and making her way over to the door. While she walked, Arthur looked for some buttons or something he could use to assist her in taking it off, when they got to that point. If they got to that point. One more interruption and it would be ruined for both of them.

"Jerry, hello," Guinevere said to the man at the door. "What is a handsome man like you doing away from the tavern?"

Arthur couldn't see Jerry, but heard his voice from the doorway. "Wife kicked me out of the house and I ain't got no money to rent a room," Jerry replied. "Would ya mind if I stayed here for the night?"

Guinevere hesitated, thinking of an excuse. Arthur leaned back against the pillow and frowned. Maybe tonight wasn't a good night… maybe they shouldn't. But what was Arthur supposed to say? And he didn't want to leave…

"I'm sorry, Jerry, but I'm afraid I don't have any room," Guinevere apologized. "I do have some coin, if you would prefer?"

"I would very much, Gwennie," Jerry replied.

Guinevere pulled away from the door and closed it, leaving only a crack for light to seep through, and hurried over to her bed, where she crouched down and reached underneath. When she stood up again, in her hands was a small black box, and when she opened it Arthur saw a few gold coins rolling around. He knew that a room at the inn cost one coin, and that would leave only a few left over before he was to deliver this month's pay. Perhaps he would give it to her earlier. Or more than she needed. Or how ever much was good for her. She took out the coin and smiled at Arthur before she returned to the door, pulling it open and handing Jerry the money. Arthur could hear a rushed and slurred "thank you" before Jerry's footsteps faded away and Guinevere shut the door, leaning against it once it was closed.

"Happen often?" Arthur questioned, sitting up.

"Not often, but once in a while," Guinevere replied, making her way back over to the bed. She sat at the end and looked at him.

"I apologize," Arthur told her. "If I wasn't here than you wouldn't have had to give him the coin and he could stay somewhere."

Guinevere shook her head and giggled. "I don't trust Jerry all that much," she whispered to Arthur. "I wouldn't have given him a room if you were here or not. His marriage would just get worse, and I do not want to be responsible for that."

"Things in the lower town are… interesting," Arthur commented.

"Yes, that they are," Guinevere replied.

"Would you…"

"I'd be delighted."

Guinevere hopped back on his lap and they kissed once more. Her fingers ran through his hair and her lips pressed against his and her mouth was warm against his, and her cheeks were heating up, something he knew when he placed his hands on them and ran his thumbs across. He smiled into the kiss and she moved impossibly closer, her hands slipping down from his neck across his chest to his stomach. And then there was a third disruption.

"Oy, you bloody bastard, get back here with me ale!" a man yelled outside.

"You're the bloody bastard, you're the one who stole me cider!" a second man yelled.

"I shoulda gotten rid of you when I 'ad the chance!" the first screamed back.

Guinevere giggled and slipped off of Arthur, laying down beside him and clasping her hands on her stomach. Arthur lay down with her but lay on his side so he was looking at her, inspecting her profile, her features. She turned her head and smiled at him, and then at once flipped over and curled into him, her head resting against his chin, his strong arms encasing her in his scent.

"Maybe when I'm done with your wife, I'll come back and let you take a shot!" the second exclaimed. "And after that, I'll go to your mother's house! And you know what I'll do?"

"Say that and my foot'll be so far up your arse that you won't be able to see!" the first responded as Guinevere burst out into quiet, shaking laughter. Arthur chuckled and gently leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"That's what your wife said to me last night, you stinkin' pig!" the second yelled back.

"My wife wouldn't sleep with the likes of you!" the first man shouted.

"Does this happen often?" Arthur asked Guinevere.

"Nearly every night," she replied.

"Is she blind? Because who would prefer to sleep with you, you rotten cow, over me!" the second man screamed.

Arthur jokingly raised his hand. Guinevere smacked his chest.

"My wife would, you stinkin' two-faced witch!" replied the first man.

Guinevere's laughter grew louder and Arthur soon followed, his chuckles bursting through his grin.

"I ain't no witch! I'll have you know that I am the most powerful warlock to ever walk this earth, and to ever walk your wife!" the second man yelled back.

The yelling died down as they presumably jumped at each other. After several moments, Arthur and Guinevere could hear the grunting and scuffling as the two men outside rolled around on the ground, probably attempting to beat each other senseless or get payback. Soon the guards would come and take them away from each other, and the night would be peaceful. But there would be no point in continuing their… activity, seeing as the mood had been completely lost and in all honesty, Arthur would rather fall asleep with Guinevere like this than do anything else. He just wanted to lie there, holding her in his arms and listening to her breathing as she fell asleep. He didn't want to kiss her. He didn't want to do anything. This was better than anything.

"Perhaps you should return to the castle," Guinevere suggested, her voice growing sleepy.

"Perhaps I should, but what is my excuse?"

"Say you went to the tavern."

"The guards know I would never go to the tavern by myself for fun," Arthur replied.

"Well, Merlin's there," Guinevere told him. "You could pretend you were retrieving him."

"That's why he left work early today," Arthur said. "I asked Gaius, but he had no idea." He pulled his face away from her and stared into her eyes questioningly. "And how, may I ask, did you know he was at the tavern?"

Guinevere blushed and curled closer. "I wanted him to be nearby, just in case I needed… advice," she replied. "But when you got here I knew I wouldn't. But I didn't know that before."

"Advice?"

She nodded into his chest. "Advice, on…"

"Oh," Arthur said. "Oh, of course, yes."

There was silence, followed by, "And what advice could Merlin give? Has-"

"I'm not quite sure," Guinevere interrupted. "But he seemed to know a lot more about it than I suspected."

Arthur chuckled. "And when did he find out?"

Guinevere frowned. "Oh, Arthur, I'm sorry, he read the note over my shoulder and I told him what I thought it meant," she replied. "I'm sorry."

Arthur shook his head. "No harm done, Guinevere, no harm done."

Guinevere pulled away. "I think it's time to go," she told him softly, despite the fact that neither of them wanted him to leave. But it was for the best. Rumors would be flying around the castle by midday tomorrow if he was seen leaving her house early in the morning with messy hair. Even if they didn't do anything, gossip would still be everywhere. It was for the best.

"Soon, there won't be sneaking around anymore," Arthur said.

"I cannot wait," Guinevere smiled, placing a kiss on his chin. "Would you like assistance putting your shirt back on, as well, or can you do that yourself?" Arthur squeezed her hip gently and she giggled, sitting up so he could crawl over her.

He, of course, put it back on without her help and she watched as he fussed with his hair in the mirror, patting it down or pushing stray hairs from his face. And her heart swelled. That had been the most fun night she had had in a long time, with everything that had gone on, all the interruptions. They were… very funny, and she knew that Arthur and her would never forget what had happened. Merlin would probably know all the details by the next day, if Guinevere was right. Arthur told him everything and so did Gwen. But they told each other more than everything; they told anything that came to mind, things they wouldn't dare tell other people. And he would be the only one to know about this, because he wouldn't dare risk his head over petty gossip. And he would probably be too grossed out to recount it to anyone, anyway.

Guinevere stood up and accompanied him to the doorway.

"Thank you for tonight, Guinevere," Arthur said, leaning down briefly to kiss her cheek.

"Thank you for suggesting it," Guinevere replied, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Arthur nodded. "Of course, Guinevere," he told her. He hated to part, but it was the safest. There were already enough rumors flying around the castle. They didn't need more. He pressed one last kiss on her lips before flipping up his hood and slipping through the door.

She just hoped they didn't have interruptions next time.


End file.
